Sweet Submission
by Amaya86
Summary: I am his in every way.
1. Sweet Submission

This little fic is dedicated to my friend _strangeindividual_ who is also my _plot-bunny-bouncer-off'er_. From the moment I thought about writing something for her I knew this would be the pairing I would use ('tis her favourite after all).

This story is rated M for a reason! It has mentions of BDSM and if man-love ain't your thing, just click the little arrow in the left hand corner.

There is no lemon, I'm not quite ready to write that just yet ;) but this is by far the most graphic fic I've written to date.

So, having said that… please read and enjoy and keep in mind that it's AU so the characters are extremely OOC (I'm just using them for their looks :P)

Oh, and Naruto obviously does not belong to me.

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><p>My blood runs cold as I hear <em>Master's<em> car pull into the driveway of the house. There is still so much to do before I would even be close to ready for _his _return home. The whistle of the kettle draws my attention and I quickly add water to the waiting cup. _Master_ expects _his_ tea when _he_ returns home. It's one of the few things _he_ is unwilling to overlook. The tea must be steeped for exactly one minute, the tea bag removed without squeezing out the excess liquid, one spoon of sugar and enough milk to turn the dark amber liquid into a light, milky caramel brown. Even though my stomach is tied in knots because I know I'm in a lot of trouble, I can't help the slight tingling of my skin as I think back to the training I received to ensure I make the tea exactly to _Master's_ liking. It took days.

With the water now added to the cup I rush to the second, smaller room in the house; the place where _Master _makes me sleep if I've displeased _him_ too much. There's no furniture in the darkened room, just a built-in wardrobe where I keep my clothes and a leather collar fastened to the wall by a too short chain. Luckily, I haven't had the misfortune of spending a night here in quite some time, but my luck might just have run out today. I've broken at least three rules and there's no way I'll be able to hide it from _Master_. _He_ always knows.

As fast as humanly possible I strip out of my day clothes revealing the skimpy garments underneath. _Master_ has very clear rules about what I wear when at home. The air feels cold against my bare skin. The very short, very tight leather shorts doing little to cover my exposed body. The thick leather straps criss-crossing my torso stand out against my tan skin, the leather digging deliciously into the flesh underneath. I've taken to wearing my house attire underneath my everyday clothing as it's usually a struggle to force myself into the skin-hugging clothes. The fact that I'm not yet dressed is another rule broken. I hear _Master's_ car door slam, the sound once again rousing me into action and I rush back to the kitchen.

I've taken too long… I stare at the dark reddish brown liquid in _Master's_ cup, unease making my stomach churn. I have two options, both of which would get me into trouble. I could either finish the tea I've started and run the risk of _Master's_ displeasure at the poorly prepared drink, or I could pour it out, re-boil the kettle and start from scratch. That would however mean that I would be late with _Master's_ tea. The sound of the key in the door makes my mind up for me. I chuck the teabag in the bin, add the milk and sugar and quickly make my way to the front door with the tea. _Master_ looks tired as _he_ shuts the door and I instantly feel guilty for my slackness.

The past three months of my life have been dedicated to this man, my dominant. I guess I'm not what you would expect when thinking of person in a BDSM relationship. At first glance I look just like every other painfully shy gay man. I have a half day job as a receptionist at a respected law firm, the easy hours giving me enough time to get home so I can prepare for _Master's _return. I'm still new to this life, _Master_ being my first and from what I've heard I'm extremely lucky. _Master_ is gentle, yet firm when the need arises. _Master_ cares for me and has taken so much time guiding me into this life and I find it hard to imagine what my life would be like without _him _in it.

_Master_ removes his jacket and taking care not to spill any of _his_ tea I take the garment_,_ all the while averting my gaze. _Master_ will tell me when I'm allowed to look at _him_. _Master _moves to the den and I quickly hang up the jacket before following _him_. _Master_ sits down on the soft leather chair, the dark material a striking contrast to his snowy, silver white locks. Placing the tea on the small table to _his_ right I kneel before _him_ and remove _his_ shoes. _Master _sighs contently as I dig my thumbs into the flesh of _his_ socked foot. The soft sound makes my chest constrict warmly with a sense of accomplishment. In silence I firmly massage first _his_ one foot and then the other while _Master_ enjoys his tea.

_Master_ sits up after a while and I remove my hands from _his_ feet. Placing one crooked finger under my chin, _Master_ lifts my face so I'm staring directly into _his _dark eyes. _Master_ looks stern and any hope I had of avoiding repercussions for my actions melt away like snow on a warm day.

"What did you do today?" _Master_ asks softly, and as innocent as the question is, I feel my throat constrict with nerves.

_Master's_ main house rules are simple. Make sure the house is tidy and have _his_ tea and dinner ready when _he_ gets home. Wear what _he_ likes, and no guests without _his_ permission. It doesn't matter if it's friends or family. I swallowed visibly. Dinner was nowhere near ready. Hell, I hadn't even started. _Master's_ tea was hastily and poorly prepared and I'm sure _he_ knows it… and I had a friend over. The two cups I forgot to remove mockingly standing on the living room table. It was an unforeseen event, Anko just showed up on my doorstep without any warning. What was I supposed to do? She was an old school friend, one I hadn't seen in years and she had no idea of the type of relationship I was in. It wasn't like I could chase her away if I had phoned to ask permission and _Master_ said no. How was I supposed to know she would stay so long?

_Master_ is still waiting patiently for my answer, dark eyes boring into my lighter ones. Clearing my throat I steady myself for the disappointment that is sure to follow my answer.

"I had a surprise visitor and couldn't' get rid of them." I try to explain even though I know _Master_ doesn't accept excuses.

_Master_ says nothing for a moment, the tense silence making it hard for me not to fidget, before withdrawing _his_ hand and getting up out of the chair. I drop my gaze back to the floor and scoot back giving _Master_ room to walk past me. I had expected some kind of reaction, some form of punishment, not this pressing silence. _Master_ moves gracefully to the door and for a moment I think that _he_ is going to ignore me completely. The feeling of rejection hits me hard making me feel cold and nauseous and I bravely try to fight the tears forming in my eyes. My throat feels swollen and I can't breathe.

"Come!" _Master _orders from the doorway and I gratefully crawl after _him_ as fast as I can. _Master_ walks purposefully into the smaller bedroom and I follow _him_ with relief and a small amount of apprehension. _Master_ frowns at the clothes still lying on the floor from my rushed undressing earlier but does not voice _his_ disapproval. Instead _he_ walks to where the collar is attached to the wall and indicates that I should come closer. I crawl to _him_, keeping my head as low as possible.

"Face the wall." _Master_ orders and as I quickly comply _Master_ kneels next to me. I resist the urge to flinch as the thick collar is strapped firmly around my neck, the heavy leather not tight enough to choke me, but tight enough not to be comfortable. _Master_ gets up and moves to the wardrobe. I look over my shoulder at _him_ but _Master's _back is turned to me preventing me from seeing which items _he_ selects. The humiliation I feel at being tied up like a dog does nothing to dampen the arousal I feel at the prospect of the punishment _Master_ has in store for me.

"Drop your pants." _Master_ orders as _he_ walks back to me and I quickly obey by peeling the skin tight leather off my body to expose my backside. As I move to remove my pants completely a strong grip on my wrist halts my actions.

"Touch yourself." _Master_ instructs me, _his_ voice soft and low. Gratefully I wrap my hand around my already half hard member. A few strokes are all that's needed to bring my arousal to its full hardness. Just as I'm getting into this pleasurable activity _Master_ again grips my wrist and I have to fight to suppress the complaining whine that threatens to break free. _Master_ places my forearms against the wall above my head and spreads my legs further apart, the leather of my pants cutting into my thighs. The carpet is digging uncomfortably into my knees and I'm now totally at _Master's _mercy. The thought only makes me feel more aroused. Warm hands snake around my body and I can't stop the gasp that escapes my lips as a cock ring is placed securely at the base of my penis. To show _his_ displeasure at my loss of control _Master_ harshly pinches my now erect nipples and I bite down hard on my lips to stop myself from making any more noise.

The sound of a bottle being uncapped catches my attention and I shiver violently as a lubed finger is pressed unexpectedly into my body. _Master_ wastes no time in searching for my prostate and once _he_ finds it the finger is just as abruptly removed. Before I can even gather my shattered thought something cold and slick is pressed against my entrance and I do my best to relax, not to fight the intrusion that is sure to follow. I let out a shaky breath as _Master_ slowly pushes the butt-plug into my unprepared hole. The stretch is borderline painful and I focus on my breathing to help me stay as still as possible. The head of the butt-plug finally pops through the tight ring of muscles and I let out another shaky breath. I feel impossibly full and it's not nearly enough. I can feel the hard rubber pressing ever so slightly against my prostate with every slight move I make. The sensation leaves me wanting more but I know better than to fidget.

_Master _gets to his feet and I rest my head against the cold wall in front of me knowing that _master_ will now lay down the terms of my punishment.

"Since you failed to prepare dinner I will be going out." _Master_ says in his soft velvety voice. "You will stay like this until I get back. You are not allowed to remove anything I have placed on your body and you are not allowed to cum. Is that clear?"

"Yes, Master." I answer as clearly as I can. It's not nearly as bad as I expected, I think as I hear _Master_ moving towards the door. Just then a soft click, which has nothing to do with the door, reaches my ears and the butt-plug buried deep inside me starts to vibrate lightly. I bite my lip and screw my eyes shut as the vibrations cause the plug to brush against my prostate persistently.

I whine softly as I hear the front door close and the sound of _Master's_ car pulling out of the driveway. The vibrator must be on some sort of time setting because every few minutes the intensity of the vibrations either pick up or slow down. It's maddening, and after only minutes I have my first false orgasm, the wave of pleasure dissipating before it can be even remotely sating. My muscles are trembling from the awkward position I'm in and I bite my tongue to prevent myself from ripping the cock ring off and just allowing myself to give into the pleasure my body is so desperately begging for.

It's going to be a long night.

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><p>Yay! All done. Thanks to<em> HellzButtafly<em> for fixing all my mistakes :)


	2. Sweet Release

After little more than a month I've managed to produce a sequel to Sweet Submission. This instalment is dedicated to my other lovely beta… _hellzbuttafly_. Originally I wanted to write her a yuri (and in the future I might still do that) but this came out instead…

I feel the need to stress that this fic contains strong BDSM elements that you should not try at home or with someone who is not experienced in this type of play. For this reason, this fic is rated M! If you are still in school I strongly suggest against reading further.

Having said that, all that remains is the normal disclaimer… Naruto not mine

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><p>I hear <em>Master's<em> car pull into the driveway and I breathe a sigh of relief. It feels like I have been here for hours. My left leg is cramping and the carpet's pattern is imbedded painfully into my knees. I've long since lost the feeling in my hands and arms, the stinging, pins-and-needles sensation having supplied a few moments of relief from the unrelenting sexual stimulation. On some level I know I should be worried about this, but I don't have the strength to think about it now. My entire body is trembling, my muscles twitching uncontrollably and I can't decide which I want more, to cum or to pass out. Really, at this point I would settle for either one.

The sound of _Master's_ car door slamming fills me with anticipation and a small amount of trepidation. I hope _Master_ is pleased with my obedience. If _he_ is in a good enough mood _he_ may even untie me before _he_ fucks me… if _he_ fucks me at all. It has been a long time since there was any need for _him_ to punish me to this extent. Actually, I think this is the first time _Master _has left me unattended for so long. Maybe it means that I have finally gained _his_ trust.

The front door opens and closes and I listen to _Master'_s soft footsteps coming down the hallway. I bite my lip and shut my eyes as yet another false orgasm causes my body to spasm violently. I take deep breaths to calm my stuttering heartbeat. I have stopped counting the number of dry orgasms I've had, because thinking about it doesn't help my fragile state of mind. _Master_ goes to _his_ bedroom and I listen to _him_ moving around before _he _makes his way to the room where I'm tied up.

_Master_ pause in the open doorway and I wonder what I must look like to _him_, kneeling on the floor with my pants pulled down and a collar around my neck. Does it arouse _him_ to see me like this, completely submissive and waiting just for _him_? I hear a switch being flicked and the unrelenting vibration that has been steadily driving me to the brink of insanity, stops. It's a welcome relief, but I still have to bite back the frustrated moan that wants to break free. Breaking any rules now would most likely result in me spending the night chained to this damn wall, in this cold bedroom without reaching release.

_Master_ kneels next to me and a smooth warm hand caresses my neck. When did _he _come closer? I'm so out of it that I didn't ever hear _him_ move. The hand trails along my spine making gooseflesh break out across my cooled skin. I didn't even realise how cold I am until I feel how warm the hand running over my skin is. _Master_ is still silent and it makes me anxious. Am I not forgiven yet? _Master_ cups my one ass cheek spreading me slightly while _his_ other hand traces an equally hot path down my side. It feels so good to have _him _touch me like this. The physical contact is comforting. Trying not to tense up I steel myself for what I know is sure to follow. Just as I get my body under control I feel _Master_ gripping the but-plug still embedded deeply within my now well stretched entrance. With a steady hand _Master_ removes the toy and despite my tight control a small whimper breaks free. I'm instantly horrified, will I be punished even more now?

_Master_ sighs behind me and my heart sinks to my feet. Gripping my chin firmly, _Master_ turns my face towards _him_. "Look at me." _Master_ orders as I try to avoid meeting _his_ eyes. Cautiously I look up, afraid of what I might see, but instead of the disappointed anger I'm expecting I find only affection and pride. "You have done well." _Master_ praises me in a soft voice as _he_ brusher my fringe out of my eyes. The sudden tenderness confuses me. It is the first time any form of punishment has been interrupted in such a manner. It's hard to focus on what this could mean because I'm still painfully aroused and without _Master's_ permission I'm not allowed to cum.

_Master_ makes quick work of removing the leather collar from around my neck. The air is extra chilly against the now exposed area and I have to suppress another shiver. An arm sneaks around my body and the restriction around my arousal is removed. The sudden release of pressure makes me feel giddy.

"Get up." _Master _orders and I get unsteadily to my feet. My muscles protest painfully against the change in position and I have to hold on to the wall to stop myself from falling over.

Without saying another word _Master_ turns and leaves the room and I follow _him_ on my still shaky legs. It's uncomfortable walking with my pants around my thighs, but as _Master_ has not given me permission to pull them up there is nothing I can do about it. I enter the main bedroom and see _Master_ already waiting for me by the bed. _He_ is holding the cuffs that will play a part in tonight's scene. _He_ indicates that I should get undressed and get on the bed and I comply, the cotton sheets cool against my skin. Now naked I position myself close to the iron wrought headboard. _Master_ had it custom made for restraining purposes. With deft fingers the broad leather cuff is fastened first around my one wrist and then the other. I'm grateful for the soft leather because it will limit the chance of chafing. Strange that I can still worry about chafing while what is sure to follow next will undoubtedly leave me scarred to some extent. The chain of the cuffs is secured to the headboard. _Master_ has given the chain enough length that I can lay down comfortably if he wishes to have me in that position. _Master_ orders me to kneel and grip the headboard. My muscles scream in protest at being forced into the same position and for a moment I think of complaining. One quick glance at _Master_ kills that thought. Clearly I'm being tested to see if I'll say anything. I bite my tongue and do as _he_ asked.

I hear the top of a bottle being popped and I try to guess what's coming next. _Master_ dribbles cool oil onto my back and ridiculous as it sounds I have to suppress a giggle as the oil runs in tickling rivulets down my skin. The bottle is returned to the bedside table and _Master_ runs a hand over my back, spreading the oil. As wrong as it is, I can't help leaning into the touch. All too soon the soothing hand is removed and _Master_ moves away. I don't know what to expect because truthfully I had thought that I would be blindfolded by now. It's one of the things _Master_ enjoys the most, robbing me of my senses so the whole experience is more intense.

A faint whooshing is the only warning I get before the sharp sting of a riding crop against my oiled skin. I gasp in shock at the sudden pain and the same moment something big and round is shoved into my mouth. _Master_ has impeccable timing I think with a sense of pride as the straps of the ball gag are placed securely around my head. It's uncomfortable having my mouth stretched open like this, but I don't have long to dwell on this thought before the whoosh of the riding crop reaches my ears. I flinch, expecting another stinging blow. The blow never comes, instead a bare chest is presses against my back and a soft whisper reaches my ear.

"Let's see how long you last before I have you screaming for me." _His_ voice sounds like sex, deep and husky and if I wasn't already aroused it would have been enough to have me fully erect. A small buzzer is placed into my right hand and I grip it tightly. It's my one safety line, the only bit of control I have left. All I have to do is let it go if things get too much for me to handle.

The second blow lands just underneath the firs where a welt has already formed and it seems to revive the fading burn of the first blow. The third hit falls before I have time to prepare myself for it and I squeeze my eyes shut, a few warm tears running down my face. Another precisely placed line across my back and I'm starting to feel dizzy. Somewhere along the line I stopped breathing and as little black spots start dancing on the edge of my vision I know if I don't breathe soon I'm going to pass out. I force myself to draw a shaky breath through my nose just as the riding crop meets my skin again. This one feels more forceful than the previous blows and I whimper as the burning reaches a new level of intensity. My senses are buzzing by now. I can feel where the iron of the headboard is digging into my palm, saliva dribbling freely down my chin. Sweat breaks out over my skin and I feel it running down my back. It makes me feel itchy and I find it slightly amusing that I can still feel something so insignificant when it feels like my skin is being flayed off my back. Another blow, this one feeling like it broke skin and I have to bite down hard on the ball gag to stop myself from screaming. I know once I do _Master_ will stop and move on to the next activity. I'm not sure I want him to yet. Being like this makes me see everything more clearly, almost like having an out of body experience. Everything goes quite around me and all I can hear is the sound of my blood moving sluggishly through my veins. _Master_ is still laying perfectly controlled blows across my back but I no longer feel it. The experience is liberating. Unexpectedly the next blow cuts through the temporary haze and the full force of the pain my body is going through hits me at once. It's excruciating and I scream until my throat feels raw and my voice cracks.

_Master_ unties the straps holding the ball gag in place and I draw in a grateful breath of air. Almost gently _Master_ pries my hand off the headboard and removes the buzzer. _He_ makes me lie down on my stomach, my forehead almost touching the cool iron, and I do so without hesitation. My muscles feel like jelly and my back is still on fire. _Master_ straddles my thighs and lightly runs a hand over the ridges lining my back. I whimper in pain. _Master_ blows over the welts and his warm breath feels so cool against my now too warm skin.

I hear the spluttering of a candle being lit and I look over my shoulder. _Master_ is nursing a small flame to full brightness and I can't help cringing. That's another of _Master's_ vices, _his_ fascination with fire and candle wax. _Master_ is a pro when it comes to playing with candles, but the thought of warm wax on my still throbbing back fills me with apprehension. A large part of me wants to end this game now, to utter the one word that will immediately see me freed from my bonds. The trust I have in my _Master_ is the only thing that holds me back. I know that _he_ won't harm me, that everything _he_ does is carefully calculated to ultimately bring us both pleasure. So I close my eyes and bite my tongue to stop me from saying anything I might regret later.

The first drop of molten wax falls on the nape of my neck, just below my hairline. The delicious concentrated burn draws some of my focus away from my other pains. _Master_ leans over me taking care not to put too much pressure on my back.

"I want to hear you moan for me." _His_ breath ghosts over the exposed skin of my neck and after the whispered order I can't help moaning wantonly. It's not often that I'm given permission to voice my pleasure. _Master_ chuckles, amused at my reaction before using _his_ tongue to pry the now cooled wax off my skin. The slight tugging on the small hairs caught in the wax increases the delicious burn and the erotic feeling of a wet tongue laving over the sensitive skin has me whimpering quietly.

_Master _hums _his _approval and another warm drop of wax hits the centre of my back between my shoulder blades. This one is lower, dangerously close to where the welts start. The drops are coming faster now, forming a line down my spine and somehow Master manages to miss the most painful areas. Every so often one of the drops falls somewhere unexpected and it is these stray points of heat that slowly reawakens my dwindling arousal.

_Master_ leans over and places the candle carefully on the bedside table. With the candle light covering _him_ in dancing shadows, _his_ silver hair framing _his_ face and _his_ full attention focused on me I can't but marvel at _his_ beauty. I'm getting impatient now, wanting him to touch me more intimately. _Master_ knows this so _he_ takes his time peeling the cooled wax off my skin. After removing each drop of wax _he_ gently sucks on the tender flesh. By now I longer care about the small whimpering noises and moans that come out of my mouth. All that I can think about is the crushing urge to buck my hips, to rub my throbbing erection against the sheets. The knowledge that this type of indiscretion will have serious repercussions is maddening.

_Master_ settles between my legs, lifting my hips to give _him_ better access. Blunt nails draw red lined tracks down my sides before the hands come to rest on my ass. I feel myself being exposed before a sinful tongue is dragged down my crack. I want to scream in frustration at the teasing I am being subjected to. Briefly I wonder if _Master_ will be angry if I shoot my load before he even gets a chance to fuck me. The thought is short lived as I feel _Master's_ slick tongue circling my entrance.

Yes! I think as the tip of that wicked tongue dips into me. It's a heady experience, knowing that _Master_ is going to such depths to bring me pleasure. I don't know what I have done to deserve this type of attention but I sure as hell am not complaining. Unconsciously my hips press back in an attempt to deepen the contact. _Master_ digs _his_ fingertips into my protruding hipbones to prevent me from moving. I am still being teased, _Master's_ tongue barely pushing into me before retracting so _he_ can blow cool air over the wet skin. I feel like crying by now, I'm so desperate for more contact.

"Please." I whisper, my voice sounding broken around the first word I have spoken in hours. "Please Master, just touch me, fuck me, just do something!" Even though I've been reduced to pleading I can't help being proud of myself for being able to form a coherent sentence.

Apparently it's what _he_ has been waiting for because the speed with which I am pulled back onto his lap leaves my breathless and slightly dizzy. I'm straddling him now, my still stinging back pressed against _his_ chest. With an effortless motion _Master_ releases my wrists from the constricting cuffs and for the first time since we started I'm able to touch _him_. My one arm reaches behind me so I can run my hand through _his_ hair while the other returns to the headboard for support. From somewhere a bottle of lube is produced, not that I think it's necessary by now and without any further warning _Master_ enters me with enough force to knock the oxygen out of my lungs. Even with all the preparation the stretch is almost too much for me to handle and I can't help the choked sob that bubbles from my lips. _Master_ gives me no time to adjust to the intrusion, setting a brutal pace by lifting my hips and bucking up as _he_ guides me down. It takes me a few moments to gather my scattered thoughts before I start moving.

It doesn't take long for our movements to become perfectly synched. The sounds of heavy breathing and the lewd slapping of our body as we come together fills the room. It feels so good to finally have _him_ inside me. Things couldn't possibly get any better than this… or that's what I think until _Master_ lets go of my hips with one hand and clamps it over my mouth and nose, effectively cutting off my ability to breathe. I take hold of _his_ wrist with my one hand, just another one of the safety precautions we have worked out over the last few months. _Master_ likes wax, but there is nothing that gets me more worked up than having my oxygen cut off. It's the ultimate show of submission in my opinion, literally giving _him_ full control over my life. The pressure of _his_ hand on over my face makes me arc my back and the change in angle has _his_ deep thrusts hitting my prostate head on every single time.

The combination of intense stimulation and my inability to breathe is overwhelming. I'm on sensory overload, it feels like I'm floating. Tiny black spots start dancing on the edge of my vision and for the second time this evening I'm close to passing out, only this time I have no control over it. The knowledge is so absolutely arousing that I feel my orgasm approaching fast. _Master_ must realise this too because the one hand still resting on my hip slips around my body to my straining arousal and _he_ starts stroking me in time with his thrusts. I'm steadily losing my grip on reality. My body is at war with itself. What will happen first? Will I faint or will I obtain release? I'm on the verge of passing out, blackness almost blocking out my vision. The hand holding onto _Master's_ wrist is slowly slipping, indicating how close I am to losing consciousness.

_Master_ jabs my prostate particularly hard at the same moment _he_ removes _his_ hand from my face. I have time for one lungful of air before my orgasm claims me. My muscles tense and I scream noiselessly as thick streams of white hit the headboard I'm still desperately clinging to. A part of me is vaguely aware of _Master_ coating my insides as _he_ also reaches _his_ climax, but I'm still unable breathe. My eyes roll back in my head and I finally give in to the beckoning oblivion.

xxx

When I come too I'm so comfortable that it takes me a few seconds to figure out where I am. I have a splitting headache and it feel like a truck ran me over, every muscle in my body screaming for revenge. A hand runs gently through my hair and I realise I'm lying partially on top of someone else. I lift my head slightly and look into the smiling face of my Master, my lover, my life.

"You had me worried there for a moment." He says softly smoothing my hair off my forehead and placing a chaste kiss on the exposed skin.

"How long was I out?" I reply hoarsely. My throat feels like I've been gargling broken glass.

"About 10 minutes" he says handing me a glass of water and two aspirins. I gratefully swallow the pain meds and drain the glass. Taking the glass from me presses our lips together in a soft kiss before returning it to the bedside table.

"Fuuuuck!" I groan lying back down. I'm so tired that I can hardly keep my eyes open. Master… no, Kakashi chuckles quietly, moving me until we're both laying comfortably, me still draped over his body like a wet rag. It's only in moments like this, when I'm completely spent that I can think of him as more than just my Master.

"Night, my love." He whispers placing another tender kiss on my forehead. The words only reach me faintly as I'm already drifting off into a deep well deserved sleep.

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><p>And there you have it people, my very first lemon on ff. I have no idea why I chose such a complicated, perverted setting for my first time…hehe, but you know you liked it ;)<p>

IMPORTANT AN: I would like to discuss some key points and safety issues about the BDSM elements in this fic. (Because I know some of you are going to try despite my previous warning)

1) If you tie someone up, under no circumstances do you leave them unattended without a way to get free if something goes wrong. For my own sanity's sake I have to mention that Iruka's hands were not tied (in chapter 1) and his collar had a safety catch that causes it to come undone should he fall over.

2) Right… the part where Iruka gets whipped and gagged. If you are going to take away your partners ability to speak, thus making it impossible for them to use a safe word if they become distressed, you have to supply them with another way to do so. And don't really go hitting someone until they bleed… Kakashi has enough control and knowledge about the human body not to permanently scar Iruka.

3) Warm wax… I know most people will try this at one time or another so I'll just focus on the main points… too warm wax = blisters! Not fun on sensitive areas. The closer you hold the candle to the skin, the warmer the wax. This should be fun, not painful. Remember you are working with an open flame, so if your partner is tied up, make sure they can get out if something happens to you and the room catches fire. Have water handy.

4) Now for the breath play that takes place… this is by far the most dangerous of the activities I mention. In my story, Kakashi and Iruka have been in this relationship for a while so they have established a high level of trust and safe words/safety signals have already been worked out. Please notice that Iruka placed his hand around Kakashi's wrist once his air supply is cut off. This is a way for Kakashi to monitor Iruka's level of consciousness. Should Iruka faint, his hand would drop and Kakashi would instantly know. Having said that… please kiddies, I feel I need to once again stress that this type of play is dangerous! Possible side effects include: vomiting (choking hazard), loss of consciousness (which will leave you with a bitching headache afterwards), seizures, you could stop breathing, your heart could stop beating or be thrown out of rhythm, you could die. If you are going to do this anyway, make sure your partner at least knows CPR and basic first aid because if you die, they go to jail.

Right, I'm sorry for the freaking long AN, but it would be remiss of me not to point out the dangers. Play safe kiddies :P


End file.
